


NSFW (Nice Stuff For Werewolves)

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, M/M, Werewolf Culture, possibly crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8150560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: Stiles happens to be around when Derek gets a special delivery. (This is not a euphemism)





	

**Author's Note:**

> There was a post going around tumblr that said NSFW= Nice Stuff For Werewolves, and it inspired this silly little fic. Also, someone should tell me if this is crack, because I just can’t tell any more.

Stiles is sprawled out on Derek’s couch when the doorbell rings, and he startles hard, almost dropping the book he’s reading. Derek makes a point to smirk at him as he walks past.

“Hey, I can’t help it,” Stiles huffs. “I didn’t even know you _had_ a doorbell.”

“That’s because you always just come barging in,” Derek says over his shoulder. He slides open the door, and accepts a package from an out-of-breath FedEx guy.

“Man, that’s a lot of stairs,” he says in lieu of greeting. He waits until Derek has a good grip on the box, then gives a jaunty wave. “Have a nice day,” he says, and then clomps away.

“Dude, what is that?” Stiles asks. As Derek walks over, he gets a good look at the side of the box, and his eyes widen. “Oh my god, is that porn? I don’t want to know about your porn collection, man!”

Derek tries not to grin, because he heard Stiles’ heart blip over that last part. “Why would you even ask me that?” he asks, sitting on the other couch, across from Stiles. He sets the package on the coffee table and carefully slits open the tape with a claw.

“Uh, because it says NSFW right there on the box?” Stiles says, like that’s obvious. “If it’s not porn, what is it?”

“NSFW is the name of the company,” Derek says. “They provide monthly, curated boxes of items specifically for werewolves.”

“So that’s what you’re getting? A werewolf care package?” Stiles asks as Derek folds back the flaps.

“I guess,” Derek says. “It stands for Nice Stuff For Werewolves.”

That startles a laugh out of Stiles. “Oh my god, really?”

“Really,” Derek says, pulling a couple of bags of powder out of the box.

“Hey, what’s that?” Stiles asks, and really, Derek should have expected him to be curious.

“Powdered catnip,” Derek says, though he considers lying. Stiles would find out eventually, anyway. “It has a soothing effect,” he says quickly, before any jokes can be made.

“You just eat it?” Stiles says, eyeing the bag dubiously.

“I usually have it with tea,” Derek says mildly, grabbing the next item out of the box.

“Uh, is that beef jerky?”

“Deer, actually,” Derek says, smirking.

He sets the package down on the coffee table next to the catnip. Everything else in the box is being covered by a copy of _Entice_ magazine, so he pulls that out next.

Stiles’ heart rate suddenly spikes, and Derek figures he was afraid there was going to be a sex toy underneath it.

There isn’t one, of course. It’s not that kind of service.

Outwardly Stiles looks calm, but his eyes flick repeatedly toward the magazine in Derek’s hands. His heart beat noticeably drops when Derek sets it aside.

Interesting.

 _Entice_ is a certain kind of magazine, intended for a select audience. It’s tastefully arranged, full of borderline erotic images appealing to werewolves. It’s not stated anywhere, obviously, but anybody who knows anything knows exactly who it’s for. And it’s a pretty small circulation, so he can’t imagine how Stiles has even _heard_ of it.

On a whim, Derek picks up the magazine again.

Sure enough, Stiles heart speeds right back up.

And he’s starting to look shifty now, inching forward to the edge of the couch as his eyes dart between Derek and _Entice_ , his fingers nervously pulling at each other.

“Hey,” he says suddenly, leaning forward and plucking something out of the box. “Are these bath bombs?”

“Yes,” Derek says calmly, a counterpoint to Stiles’ frantic question. “It says so right on the package.”

“Yeah, but who would want an anise-scented bath?” he says with a nervous laugh.

Derek ignores that completely, and casually flips open the magazine. He only has to go a couple of pages before he finds what he’s looking for. “Stiles, would you care to explain this?” he asks, holding it up.

Stiles groans, snatches the magazine out of his hands. He flips rapidly between the pages, eyes wide. “Oh my god, I don’t even remember most of these! A bunch of them must be candid,” he grumbles.

Derek grabs the magazine back. Well, whatever they are, they’ve been expertly selected.

The first page features a series of pictures of Stiles seated in a director’s chair, looking off-camera. In one, he looks like he’s listening attentively to someone, his hands splayed out across his spread thighs. In the next picture he looks more distracted, and one of his hands has drifted up to his inner thigh, clear and obvious against the black jeans he’s wearing, and Derek feels a pulse of want roll through him.

The next picture is even worse, because someone has given Stiles a bottle of water. He has his head tilted back, neck arched and hips canted forward as he drinks, and Derek swallows thickly.

The picture on the next page is obviously from the actual photo shoot, because Stiles is dressed up. In it, Stiles is tilting his head to the side, his chin down and his eyes looking directly into the camera. With one hand, he’s tugging at the knot of his tie, revealing his unbuttoned collar, and giving a glimpse of his throat and collarbones.

Derek shuts the magazine.

“Well?” he says, as calmly as possible.

“Look, there was a guy going around campus—a _non-shady_ _guy_!” Stiles says hurriedly. “And he said I’d be perfect for his magazine, that I could make some extra money doing a photo shoot. He said there’d be no nudes, and nothing weird. Just that I’d put on some nice clothes, and they’d take a bunch of pictures. I thought it was a fashion magazine!” he finishes defensively.

Derek kind of wants to laugh. And he has to admit, Stiles was an excellent choice. “You really didn’t know what kind of publication it was?” he asks, amused.

“Well, it’s not like they can advertise it,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. “But no, I had no idea. They paid me a lot, too.”

Derek nods. “I’m not surprised. They’ll probably want you back for another shoot.”

“What, really?” Stiles says, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“You realize you were scouted, right? That guy wasn’t offering this to just anybody. And your pictures, well,” Derek pauses, clearing his throat. “They turned out really good.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, and he’s actually _blushing_.

Derek can’t help letting his gaze flit from Stiles’ flushed cheeks, down to his neck, then across the breadth of his shoulders. Yeah, Stiles was definitely a good choice.

“You know,” Stiles says suddenly, standing up and moving to sit next to Derek on the other couch. “I would have never expected my pictures to end up in a werewolf gift box, but I wouldn’t mind being something nice for werewolves.” He hesitates a moment. “Well, one werewolf in particular.”

“Something nice?” Derek asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, like a boyfriend,” Stiles says, grinning. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” Derek says, feeling his heart flutter. “What werewolf did you have in mind?”

He barely gets to finish the question before Stiles’ lips are on his. “This werewolf,” he says, breathless.

“Good,” Derek says, pulling Stiles into another kiss. “Looks like I won’t be needing my subscription after all.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
